


YOU MADE ME A DRAGON YOU PUT ME IN THE FIRE AND WHEN I STOPPED BURNING I LEARNED HOW TO GLOW

by bladeCleaner



Category: Gossip Girl
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Queer Character, Queer Themes, Racism, Slurs, Trans Male Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 11:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2228229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bladeCleaner/pseuds/bladeCleaner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Serena van der Woodsen and a year at Brown. A golden girl and her lesson in <em>becoming.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	YOU MADE ME A DRAGON YOU PUT ME IN THE FIRE AND WHEN I STOPPED BURNING I LEARNED HOW TO GLOW

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lookinglassgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookinglassgirl/gifts).



> "2. The Beautiful One, the long hair or the slim waist or the pretty eyes or the lips like bowstrings. This woman looks good in everything because she’s confident in whatever you put her in. She’ll cut her hair short on you no matter how you like it, she’ll wear high heels and step on your opinions, she’ll look hot as hell no matter what size she is. See, the reason you can’t trust her is because women like this don’t need your permission, they’ll do as they please and get away with it. They’ll say no to you, over and over. Teach your daughters that beautiful means dangerous, teach them to distrust women who love themselves. Equate beautiful with vapid, equate pretty with stupid, take their power from them. Say they’re vain for their makeup, refuse to see them without it. These women are snakes, they are serpents. I said maybe the problem lies with you being unable to control yourself and was told to get off my pedestal."
> 
> -In Respectful Response To A Poem Tilted, “Ten Men Women Have Warned Me Against Becoming.", inkskinned (tumblr user)

Serena van der Woodsen shows up at Brown orientation with itchy fingers and her wallet burning a rib through her long shimmering cardigan. It’s August; it shouldn’t be this cold.

She doesn’t want to pickpocket anybody. It’s the urge to rip open her knapsack, slip on some sunglasses and open her wallet (Chanel) to buy an airplane ticket out of here. There’s still time.

_Your bags packed, your laces tied, your phone set to a different time zone. Honey, you gotta get out while you’re young, baby you were born to run-_

She shakes Bruce Springsteen from her head. This is her last chance-to prove Mom wrong, to make Blair proud, and at some point those two names might switch but right now she needs to keep moving. There’s no more escaping, no more excuses, no more Dan.

Her soul doesn’t lie in a window seat on a jet.

Not that it’s in a campus of 6000, either, she thinks sarcastically as she looks around.

She shakes her hair out and sets her jaw. It’ll always be too easy, the lying, the acting, the fucking _van der Woodsen_ charm. For a moment she wonders if she got it from her father-it certainly wasn’t from Lily-but she smiles and thrusts herself into the fray of strangers.

\--

_1\. The Girl Who Takes Up Too Much Space, always, her shoulders too wide in stairwells, her hips too big in doorways, her voice too loud in classes. This woman does not understand the art of crumbling, of curling herself tight like the spiral of a fern, soft, delicate, unwilling to reach out the ivy of her fingers to grasp onto what should rightfully be hers. This is a beast, an elephant, a moving mountain and she is capable of flattening you, she is capable of ruining you, she is capable of making you feel as small and insignificant in her life as she is supposed to be. You are this woman’s footnote to history, you are her side note in song lyrics, you are constantly interrupted by her with a witty joke you wish you thought of. I asked what the problem was with being a steamroller instead of a sunflower and I was laughed down._

\--

After the tour there’s a lunch break. There’s still the croissant she grabbed from a bakery on the way down here. She turned in her off-campus registration form ages ago but the apartment Lily bought her still feels stifling (“Mom, I can live in the dorms-” “Serena. Please let me do this. As your mother”), so she parks her butt on the dorm yard and looks up into the late afternoon sky.

A couple guys hit on her. They’re shirtless and good-looking. She waves them away with a laugh.

The sky’s gorgeous and she’s nearly blinded by the sunlight. Now there’s something she’s always relied on; the bowl of ozone beyond her stretching like so much a beautiful impossibility. Yet she’s always felt if she just reached up her fingertips would brush against the clouds.

When she gets back to the group she notices someone looking at her. He?-she?-they’re tall, skinny and pale. Chinese. It’s cold out but they’re in a black muscle tank, ripped jeans and combat boots.

Both of them will argue that they approached each other first that day, but really, it was the collision of two forces of nature at once.

“Hi,” they both say at once, and then laugh.

“I like your outfit,” she says.

“I like your hair,” they reply. “Is that your natural color?”

She pulls a straight face. “No, it’s lemonade and bleach.”

“Oh yeah, I can smell that.”

She cracks up. “Are you saying I smell bad? Is this your first impression of me?”

“Oh, girl,” they say fondly, “I imagine no one’s first impression of you could be bad.”

Their name is Jian Ying, and they say they like he/xe/they pronouns.

“You can switch it up, any day of the week, Wednesdays could be special and you could just say all three at once when referring to _moi_ ,” and Serena isn’t easily swept up in someone else’s wave but he’s definitely got tsunami in their blood. She feels her ears fill up with the sound of his roar.

So when he invites her to eat dinner with him and his roommates, she says yes.

\--

“Official convocation is Monday,” someone tells her over the rousing noise of the bar. Jian Ying had introduced her to a couple of his room mates and friends-she thinks it’s Jill, who’s majoring in Economics, who’s telling her this. She’d asked the question 15 minutes ago.

Maria, who’s doing Urban Studies, grins and waves around a piece of garlic bread. Spat’s Pub is in full swing, and there’s a group of drunken Irish men singing Morning Has Broken.

“If you walk through the van Wickle gates more than twice, it’s supposed you’re cursed for life.”

Jian Ying snorts. “Sure, darling. Sure.”

There’s the three of them who seem like they’ve been friends forever-and there’s Jeremy, the quiet Business major who’s sipping his Guinness and Felicia, who’s in Business and loves pizza.

Jian Ying had announced her as, “Alright dears, this is Serena. Serena, this is my absolute bunch of nutters.”

Felicia says, “Nutters. Could you get any more British, _flaca_?”

“Bruja, I have to maintain my London heritage in the face of all this-” he makes a vague, hand-wheeling gesture. “American nonsense.”

Jill looks over at Felicia, amused. “Did you have to teach him Spanish?”

“I was drunk. Sue me. Your accent’s terrible, by the way, Waldo.”

“The rude girl over there is Felicia, my token straight friend and room mate. Next to her is Jeremy-say hello, Jeremy-Business major and room mate. Jill, our mad hippie. She’ll die of weed someday. Maria jerks it off to architecture-” “-piss off-” “You love me. I met Jill and Maria back in high school.”

They’d all ordered drinks. Serena decided to moderate- hangovers were a bitch-and she tried not to think about what Blair had said.

“What are you majoring in, Serena?” Maria had asked her, flashing a smile while Jill and Felicia argued about the Big Bang Theory.

“Um-Drama and Theatre Production,” she said, grinning back.

 

(“Wow, S. Cliché much?”

“C’mon, B, you loved Age of Innocence!”

They’ve been playing roles since they were born, and

 

they’ve only gotten better since.)

 

“Cool.” Jill replies, and for a minute Serena irrationally panics, thinks Jill's going to ask her about-everything, her past, high school, Nate, Blair-but instead asks her what lipstick she’s wearing.

This isn’t the Upper East Side. This isn’t Barcelona or Paris slumming it with Carter Baizen, who knows every kind of game the Upper East Side likes to play or Constance Billiard. No one really knows, here. 

_you’re going to come back as some dreadlocked hippie, god forbid-_

Shut up, Blair.

\--

“So, how’s Brown?”

“Tell me everything, S.”

“Serena. How are the masses doing?”

“Serena dear, I am so proud of you. How is school?”

“Hey Serena, it’s Rufus! I’m sure you’ve already gotten lots of voicemails, but I just wanted to let you know, college is a scary time and…”

She hits pause, and save.

There’s a voicemail from Georgina that she automatically deletes.

\--

She’s signed up for Economics, Intercultural Communications and a couple generic classes every undergrad has to take. Jill and Maria are in one of hers, and Jeremy’s in her Econs class. She doesn’t see anyone she knows outside of that. There’s something undoubtedly strange about it all; the lecture theatres, the TAs that look like they blend in with the shadows. But the campus is beautiful, and she likes the cycling.

The anonymity of the campus is unsettling and peaceful at the same time. She’s just another face in the crowd, a freshman who gets lost in between classes. No one calls her the van der Woodsen disgrace or the Constance Slut.

She laughs along with the girl who sits next to her in Econs about the teacher always being late and his funny moustache. It's so banal and yet-refreshing. No one knows who she is. She’s irrelevant, she’s not It Girl. There’s comfort in that. She doesn’t miss the spotlight as much as she thought she would. That says something, right?

( _You can’t even help it! It’s who you are._ )

Sometimes there’s the quiet in her, though; surfacing like a riptide. Her apartment is almost too clean. She’s used to the trappings of the Waldorf penthouse, or the Empire, or even the casual anonymity of motels. Not this; next to empty. But, hey, she’s got a bed, a table, basic cutlery. A couch and television, wi-fi. Her toilet works. Lily even sprung for dual shower-heads. She backpacked around Europe on her own, this is practically luxury to some of the places she stayed there. There’s even a kitchen she doesn’t use. Gleaming counters straight out of the magazines Blair used to flip through, dreaming about the apartment they’d share together when they were older. They’d been 13 and Blair already had her eye on every prize you could ever imagine.

She lives almost in the center of Providence. When she goes out drinking with the gang at some point and they’re too lazy to cab back to their dorms, they crash at her place.

Jill and Maria stumble in first, and everyone goes quiet; unexpectedly sobered up by the place.

“I thought you were a trust fund brat,” Felicia states bluntly as they file in. “Why does your place look like you’re a squatter who stole some nice furniture.”

Maria, a little scandalized, goes, “Felicia.”

“Keep your weave on, M,” the Hispanic girl replies. “Sorry, Serena. It’s pretty big. That’s yeah-uh, what I meant.”

Jill’s wiping the dust off the kitchen counter with her finger. Jian Ying is already passed out on the very minimalist couch. Jeremy’s sitting down on the floor of the open living room-connected to the kitchen-carpeted.

Jill said, “Um, no offense, Serena, but I have to agree with ‘Licia here. Didn’t you move in weeks ago?”

She shrugs. “Yeah. I mean my closet is all unpacked. My room is way less depressing, I promise.”

“Wow, this is so completely unacceptable,” Maria declares, her words slurring into each other in a rare show of assertion. It’s bold as brass; Maria doesn’t speak without confidence when she does speak. Serena raises an eyebrow.

“Well, I can live here, it’s not like it’s totally barren,” Serena defends.

“I think a ghost would find this welcoming,” Jeremy near-mumbles from his spot on the floor. Felicia cackles like a gorgeous witch and slaps his back with an audible crack.

“If even Jeremy agrees, you’re kinda fucked here, Serena-sir,” she crows.

“It’s settled. We’re going furniture shopping.” Maria swings her arm up and points at the ceiling defiantly.

“Wait, what,” Jill asks. “Guys, I have homework.”

“That can wait, darling,” Felicia pats Jill’s cheek with a familiarity that even Serena raises her eyebrows at.

“You are so drunk,” Jill shoots back, steering her by the shoulders to the couch.

“I’ll think about it,” Serena says.

Maria sits down on the carpet and stares at the ceiling in response, grinning at her. She’s got that thousand-yard stare only the deeply drunken possess, and Serena’s sure she won’t remember this tomorrow. Right?

Serena sits down and watches her friends drift to sleep until it’s just her and Jeremy, left awake.

“I think you should, you know.” Jeremy says very quietly. “Do the furniture shopping. Personalize a bit.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Jian Ying has good taste in fridge magnets.”

She nearly snorts loud enough to wake everyone up.

\--

Dan leaving her voicemails. She only lets herself listen to these at the dead of night, when no one’s around.

They share a half-brother. Their parents are _married_ , and they would have never worked.

Right?

The question is emblazoned on her heart.

She closes her eyes and she knows this; that she’s always been a sucker for love.

\--

_7\. The Soulmate. Never love romance more than you love being cynical. Never show weakness, never like pink, never think maybe you might find someone nice and settle down with them. Someone will find you, I was told, And if you’re lucky, he’ll put up with you when you start getting old. Never be the woman who believes in happily ever after, never be dumb enough to think maybe someone could love you after all of your mistakes. It has nothing to do with whether or not a family is important to you and you’re in a good place where a relationship would make your life better - you’re not a princess. You don’t get married, you settle._

\--

Her and her smokestack heart. She knows what everyone else thinks. That her love is worth less because she loves too many. That her smiles are faded and washed out, like the color of old jeans, because she has pulled her mouth upwards as easy as breathing her whole life. She lives fast and she’s destined to die young. She’s such a beautiful tragic mistake of an Upper East Side legend, because everyone loves watching a car crash. Everyone loves her. Everyone hates her. Same difference.

She almost went to Yale. She almost didn’t go to Brown.

But one day she looked into the mirror and thought; I’m so fucking tired of being tired.

She almost asks Nate once, _do you remember what you said? About not becoming our parents? Do you really still believe that?_

She’s afraid of any answer he might give, any answer anyone else in their fucked up, incestuous circle might give.

_When did the truth get so ugly-_

_When did it all get so fucked up?_ And she sees Blair’s face, bright red lips and bleary eyes at that party where she was self-destructing.

They hate each other. They love each other. The past pulls her in like an opalescent maelstrom of glitz and glamor, fast talk and fury.

She misses Blair so suddenly, so much that it hurts, so much that she has to grab the hand rail for a second on their way to Ikea. Only Jill notices, and her face contorts into such a touching worry for a friend she’s only known a couple weeks that Serena grabs her hand.

Jill doesn’t flinch. She just squeezes her hand once and smiles. Serena and her, they go swinging hands down the street. Jeremy, Maria, Jian Ying and Felicia are waiting for them at the bus stop. Felicia’s laughing at something Maria just said, Jian Ying’s chucking a newspaper into the bin. Jeremy’s smiling, squinting through the sunlight at them.

She has this. Out of it all, at least she has this.

\--

As soon as they step inside they go absolutely wild. That blanket, that carpet, those adorable plates-

It’s a huge maze full of ready-made rooms, transported out of pretty little white-picket-fence houses. Predictably, Jian Ying is a huge ham. He quotes 500 Days Of Summer even though there’s nobody in the bedrooms. He grabs a plastic knife from one of the kitchens and drapes everyone artistically in a living room set up as if it’s an abbatoir and he’s a Hitchcock villain. It appalls the 2.5-kid families wandering in and out and Serena has to muffle her giggles.

Jill marvels at the fabric patterns, Jeremy can’t stop touching the cookware. Maria and Felicia are too busy trying to find the most comfortable couch and/or bed.

At some point they all split up. They agree to meet up in an hour, each one of them with a separate cart of furnishings to approve. Jill has curtains, guest room towels, etcetera. Anything to do with maintenance. Jeremy’s doing kitchen, Maria, Felicia and Jian Ying are doing all the other extra trappings together. Serena drifts between all of them.

“Go crazy,” is her only instruction. At the end of the day she’s got a ton of stuff, and they’ve got to call almost four cabs to carry it all.

Her laundry basket’s neon green. Her curtains are mint, she has rainbow bean bags and a black sofa-bed. Her coasters are maps. She has oven mittens in the shape of monkeys(a nod to Chuck). Her new landline is a phone in the shape of red lips. None of it makes sense and she can already imagine how horrified Lily will look when she comes over.

_Where’s the tasteful trim, Serena dear? Is that clock a disco ball? Serena!_

“I love it. Thank you guys, so much.”

Felicia slaps her on the back and grins at her. Jian Ying is already attempting to hog the couch, to everyone’s dismay. Maria’s already claiming full credit, and Jill’s trying to set up Serena's new phone while taking selfies with it at the same time. Jeremy’s laughing like there couldn’t be anything else better.

\--

When she’s had more time to get settled, she answers everyone’s voicemails. She doesn’t check Gossip Girl even _once_.

She begins to notice something that seems too familiar to her high school days of yore, though.

Whenever their group walks down to the cafeteria together, they get some strange looks by the surrounding group who like to sit outside.

At some point Maria gets pissed off enough to say, "Hey, assholes! Take a picture; it'll last longer." 

She grins, predatory and all white teeth. They murmur and avert their eyes immediately.

"I'm a pacifist, but bravo," Jill says, clapping her on the back. Felicia raises two important points: her middle fingers when there's no staff lingering nearby.

As the weird staring people retreat, Serena shoots quizzical looks until Jeremy just says to her, “Ignore them. Those guys there, they're just...You’d think they’d be used to this by now.”

They’re the last two lagging behind as everyone gets their trays for lunch.

“Used to-what? What are you talking about?”

“You-you don’t-” he blinks rapidly. “Oh. You don’t see it? Serena-”

“Jeremy, I seriously don’t get what you’re talking about.”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s not my place to say. Sorry. We should catch up with the others.”

She watches him briskly walk over with her eyebrows furrowed, a confused smile. She laughs, a little disbelieving, and just follows.

She’s not going to pry.

\--

Intercultural Communications isn’t-she’s confused. It’s frustrating. The lecturer talks about minorities and cultural appropriation and identities. She doesn’t get it. She briefly remembers all the talks all her parents gave her about proper company and the wrong kind of boyfriend. It makes her twitch internally.

The way Blair had flicked her eyes up and down at Vanessa at her birthday party the first time they’d ever met. She’d whispered, “Oh sweetie, you did not tell me she looked like that. This is such a problem.”

Serena thought she meant-

 _Your poor little charity case friends and their less than_ distinguished _backgrounds-_

_Serena, sweetheart, there’s a reason old money keeps in the family._

\--

Forgetting is Serena’s chief practice. So she invites the gang for drinks, the fourth week of term.

They’re down at the bar when Serena notices a girl with sea-blue hair looking over at her.

“Well you know what they say luv, blue is the warmest color,” Jian Ying murmurs into her ear and she laughs.

“I don’t think I’m her type.”

Maria smirks. “You’re everyone’s type.”

Felicia, on the other hand, is eyeing one of the guys at the next table.

Serena zeroes in on him instead. “He’s cute. C’mon fee,” she nudges her on the shoulder.

“Sere, please. He’s Andrew Garfield-esque, and I am hardly Emma Stone.”

“You are too bashful for your own good, girl. What’s there to lose?” Jian Ying says with a grin.

“Yeah! C’mon, live a little.” Serena adds. Jill and Maria have twin shit-eating grins, egging her on. Jeremy’s watching with the expression of someone who’s seen this rerun before.

“What about my dignity? My sobriety?"

“I think you lost the second one there a while back, Fel.”

The whole table goes awwww snap.

Felicia glares at her and makes an O shape with her mouth but she’s fighting back a grin all the same. “Wow, ouch. Pulling your punches, heard of it?”

“Uh, pot. Meet kettle. Okay, okay. God knows I don’t want you to end up on texts from last night. Still! There’s an entire sea out there, Fee.”

“Yeah, full of taken guys and dead fish,” Jian Ying snarks from across the table. They all laugh. Jeremy, quiet but comedic, makes a shocked face and everybody cracks up some more.

“Of course, there’s also Jeremy. Takers, ladies?”

“No, no, Jeremy’s too good for any of us. He’s going to marry, like, Olivia Burke or somebody. We’ll just be his friends from before, when he wasn’t some multimillionaire and marrying Hollywood starlets.” Jian Ying says, pointing his straw wrapper at him.

“Yeah, and you’ll all sell me out to the papers for your careers,” Jeremy replied with a straight face.

“So, how about you, Serena? Know any bigwigs?”

“Yeah! I mean, my parents know the mayor of NYC, and my friend just became a Congressman-”

“Your parents know the mayor?”

“You have a Congressman for a friend?!” 

“Yeah, um, Tripp just got elected.”

“Holy crap.”

“Wow.” 

“Put in a good word for me, yeah?”

She doesn’t like how their faces look. The way their eyes are wider than they were before. 

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? You’re basically a WAS-”

Jill elbows Felicia in her gut and she just coughs.

“Yeah, it’s just interesting, that’s all,” Maria says with a smile Serena doesn’t believe.

\--

She checks Gossip Girl later that night.

“Is S trying to win a diversity award? Blair had Kati, Izzie and Nelly Yuki. Looks like our former It Girl’s habit of picking charity cases translates to college scholarship kids, too. Trying to overcompensate with tokens, S?”

Her blood nearly freezes over.

\--

“You still think there’s a double standard. That people like me get special treatment.”

The words Dan had never said to her; “Of course you do. You always do. You _always have_.”

\--

“You’ve never asked about my gender identity.” Xe stabs xir cigarette over at her. It’s 3 am on a Saturday night. Jian Ying had told her to open the door at 2 am.

Xe’d smiled sadly and she’d offered xir a beer. “Why is that, beautiful?”

“I’ll admit, it confused me at first, but I went to look some stuff up after a while-and it…it just makes sense, I guess?”

Xe raises an eyebrow. “I’ve never heard anyone say that to me. Explain?”

“Okay-well. When I was a little younger, I read this-this comic, thing, it was great. I remember this one story so well. There’s this creature-the cuckoo-who says to the girl, boys and girls grow up differently; they have different fantasies. Girls dream that they’re princesses and queens of fantasy kingdoms and boys dream that they’re superheroes. There’s this trans woman who dreams in superhero comics, and the heroine dreams in fairytales and I thought bullshit. We aren’t built differently at all. There are boys who dream about being kings and pages and rulers and fairy patrons and girls who dream about being Wonder Woman, Hawkgirl and-and Starfire. And I didn’t dream that I wanted to be a princess or a queen, when I was a girl, either.”

“So what did you want to be?”

She smiles, all snare and gutter love, “I wanted to be a dragon.”

Jian Ying looks at her and takes another puff of xir cigarette. Considers her.

“You’re more than you seem.”

She laughs. Coquettish, with a slice of bitter on the side.

“I’ve never heard anyone say that to me and actually mean it.”

\--

After all, Serena’s never heard a lie she didn’t have to _swallow._

_Even though you were born rich, dear, of course you’re free to choose-_

 

_Your brother’s fine._

_You’re more than just beautiful._

_Of course I respect you._

_I’ll keep your secrets, S._

_I love you too._

_You don’t get any special treatment just because you’re wealthy and pretty and look like everybody else._

 

\--

Before they can even register the change of seasons, there’s midterms. Felicia and her take to studying together. Their group’s scattered in pairs across the library. Serena’s still got a question in her mind-

“Felicia?”

“Yeah?”

“I mean-I hope you don’t mind me asking, but, all of you study so hard and-”

“I’m on a full ride, princess, same as the others.” Felicia answers her without even looking at her. “And believe me, there is really nowhere else to go but up.”

The silent words floating through the air; _not all of us are as lucky_.

\--

“Blair?”

“S?”

“I’m so fucking tired.”

“S…?”

“Aren’t you ever tired? Of this, of all the elitism, the games, god Blair, you think you’re so smart but you don’t ever try to see the world beyond this, beyond-”

“Excuse me? Where is this coming from?”

“Nothing. I hope you’re having fun in NYU. Goodbye, B.”

\--

Ever since Connecticut her life’s been a trial of reconciliation. Brooklyn and Upper East Side. Lily and Eric. Blair and her. It Girl, coming home to  hang up her runaway heels.

But this gap? Of reality and elite fantasy? She doesn’t know how to connect that.

\--

In Intercultural Communications people begin to speak up.

“In my high school, I was the only black boy. Whenever they mentioned the Civil Rights movement my teacher would ask me to answer a question every class, because I was a  ‘man of a certain background’ and he’d say it with this look-”

“They used to call me banana on my street. I was yellow on the outside and white inside because I didn’t speak Mandarin, and I tried so hard to fit in. They could smell that-”

“Because I’m Hispanic, apparently, every guy has to ask me if I know how to kill a man-”

“Can you help me with my math, cuz, you’re like, a smart Asian, right-”

“But if you’re black and gay, would you rape a white guy is something I actually got asked-”

\--

Jill and Maria find her sitting down in front of the steps of the building. Class has been over for half an hour.

They look at each other and then sit down on either side of her.

“We figured we shouldn’t say anything. Usually-when we try to tell other people who…aren’t minorities, it ends badly.” Maria breaks the silence first, wincing.

“The people who stare at us when we go for lunch-they…” Serena tries to articulate what she's thinking, but ends up trailing off.

“They don’t approve of any of us. I mean, an Asian trans person, two queer black girls, a Spanish genius and two white people? Weird as all get out.” Jill finishes.

Serena puts her head in her hands.

She feels them put their hands on her back. It’s more than she deserves.

Her eyes flash to how she just let Blair make Kati, Izzie and Nelly her handmaidens. How all her life it’s just been a sea of white.

“Do you ever realize how stupid you’ve been, this whole time?”

“That’s life, isn’t it?” Maria says softly.

Maria and Jill sit with her. Jill whips out her phone and texts something. Felicia, Jeremy and Jian Ying are there so quickly Serena’s laughing and she’s telling them everything, suddenly, her epiphany of horror.

“How do you not kill them?”

“We educate. Spread awareness. Never give up fighting.”

Jeremy says, simple as ever, “Vivere militare est.”

“What does that mean?” Maria asks.

Felicia replies, quietly, “To live is to fight.”

\--

Midterms pass by with some turbulence (a teacher telling her she _keeps interesting company_ and a couple creepy guys asking her and Jill to make out in front of them), bu she manages it without exploding. Jian Ying tells her about slurs. Maria, Jeremy, Jill and Felicia swap bits of their life stories with her as she tell hers. She learns about micro-agressions and they learn about trading companies for _people._ Needless to say, they’re rapt.

“It’s like a fantasy land of white people,” Maria says in awe. Serena sees her life through their eyes, ridiculous and flamboyant and crazy. Sometimes they’ll outright raise their voices in surprise.

“Nate had to date Blair because of her mom’s investment in his dad’s company? Oh my God.” Jeremy says, which is akin to screaming from him.

“Dan slept with his teacher?!” Jian Ying says, nearly falling off his chair.

Halfway through, Felicia says, “Gossip Girl is basically advertising your face for guys to accost you all the time.”

“Yeah, but I mean, um, well. Blair says if I didn’t dress like…”

Felicia just stares at her with a look Serena can’t decipher.

“ _It is not your fault_ ,” she says frankly. “You’re gorgeous, and they can just fuck right off.”

“How does Nate get away with it?” Jeremy asks derisively.

“Well, he didn’t, actually. When we graduated, he got called the _class whore._ ”

“Gossip Girl really loves her slut-shaming, doesn’t she?” Jian Ying says sarcastically.

Hours later they’re still trying to make sense of her screwed up life.

“And Nate got back together with Blair, they broke up and he was with Vanessa, right? Wait, wait wait. He was with Jenny too. Did everybody date each other? That’s insane.” Jill asks. She’s counting people on her fingers; trying to keep track.

“No wonder you got out,” Jian Ying says. “Not to insult your pals there, but shite. Sounds bloody loony.”

“I want to know who Gossip Girl is.” Maria says.

“No one’s been able to figure it out. Before I came here, I tried.”

“Dorota!” Jian Ying and Jill shout out at once. They look at each other, clearly amused. While Maria’s suggesting it’s Jenny, Serena raises her eyebrows at Jeremy, as if to say _well?_

“I think it’s Georgina,” he says when the din quiets.

Serena laughs, albeit a little warily. “No, she’s in…reform school...”

“Hey, Serena. You keep not returning my calls. That’s fine. I understand. I just wanted to let you know, I’ll be attending NYU and-”

“-you have a clean slate. Until college. Congratulations. I’m coming with you.”

\--

She gets a call from Maria that night.

“Serena? I need you to check Gossip Girl, right now.” The old words crawling up her spine like a ghastly scorpion. This time she thought she was untouchable. She thought she was safe.

“S BESTIES WITH A TRANNY, SISTER ACT, A SPIC AND LONELY BOY 2.0?”

She meets them in the quad at midnight, shaking, barely wearing anything but pjs and a cardigan.

“She’s got our pictures. How did she get our pictures?” Jian Ying’s gesticulating furiously.

Maria is laughing it off, saying it’s good advertising for potential dates. Felicia won’t say anything and Jeremy’s off on the edges of the circle, lips in a grim line. He won’t stop pacing. Jill's trying to calm Jian Ying down.

“It’s not funny,” Jian Ying finally snaps at Maria. “My parents let me be who I am as long as I keep my official name and old picture on the records so as to not embarrass my relatives. She has my picture and my real name.”

“Shit. I’m so sorry, I forgot,” Maria says, contrite.

It’s Jill that turns to Serena.

“How do we stop this? How do we stop her?”

She shakes her head. “I’ve tried. Trust me, the last thing I did before coming here was try. It’s impossible.”

\--

They’re passing by a table full of white guys to lunch when they overhear this;

“Affirmative action my ass. It’s getting tougher to be white nowadays because we’re not ‘minorities’ or some shit. Just ‘cuz I’m not a fuckin’ beaner, or an anti-social charity case, or a rich whore, or a she male-,” he says, smirking at them-

Jeremy’s lunging at him.

It’s a tussle of knuckles and knees. Jian Ying and Felicia pulling Jeremy off of him. His friends shouting hoarse insults at them as they haul their friend away, still kicking and swearing. The guy has a black eye on him and Jeremy’s jaw isn’t looking good.

They head up to the nurse and then straight to the Dean’s office.

\--

_6\. A Slut, obviously ruined by another person’s touch. It doesn’t matter how many people she’s actually been with, it’s all about the rumors she carries with her. Easy. Harlot. You’ll still try to get with her, you’ll still take her into your bed and kiss her and say things you don’t mean - but you’ll defame her name when you talk to your buddies. My father used to say “A slut is fine for the night, but the virgin is who you take home and marry.” Maybe he didn’t know he was teaching his daughter to hate her sexuality. Maybe he didn’t know that every time she’d be kissed, her whole system would shake until she felt ready to combust, shame and self-hatred shivering against her spine. Maybe he didn’t know she’d disconnect emotions and sex because he always told her, “Boys are different, they won’t care about you.” Nobody said to her that it was okay to experiment. See, the funny thing is, I’m a dancer so I know exactly where my center of gravity is. I know how hard I’ll fall in each direction. Yet out of fear of getting hurt, I won’t let a single person inside of my bed._

\--

“-lucky enough to get a scholarship to this school, Mr. Jeremy Hytrek-”

“-regardless of provocation, Mr. Henry-”

Serena and Maria stand up when they both exit the office. Henry, presumably, smirks over at them and joins his friends waiting down the hall.

Jeremy’s still got an ice pack to his jaw. Felicia holds it for him.

“It’s fine. It’s just a warning,” he smiles sadly.

“Will it affect your-”

“It’s fine,” he says with unusual vitriol. “It’s fine. I’ll deal with it.”

Days later he and Jian Ying find that Serena’s number has been scrawled on all the men’s bathrooms on campus in permanent marker. Gossip Girl had it posted on her site for everyone to see the previous week.

They don’t tell her what’s written underneath.

\--

In Econs class, a note lands on Serena’s lap.

“Sorry about those assholes. The rest of us are on your side. You need us to make some noise to the faculty, just say the word. Us social media experts will do the rest.

-Anonymous”

She folds the note and puts it in her pocket.

\--

_3\. A Bitch. Women are supposed to be ladies in the street but will tear skin under sheets. I’m told: Never raise your voice. Speak gently. Submit. Hold your opinion against your lips and when you admit to it, make sure it comes out as a butterfly wing suggestion. Don’t disagree. Don’t undermine someone else’s authority, regardless of whether or not they deserve your respect. Someone touches you, just move away from them. Don’t hit. Don’t talk back. Be like the ruins of Rome, only beautiful if you can’t hear your quiet death._

\--

“No, imagine though, just fuckin’ imagine,” Maria says, smoking her cigarette furiously in short bursts like she’s about to brandish her smoke at any moment and bullets will come spitting through her teeth. Serena’s watching her, amused, half-listening. She’s thinking about Jeremy, at home; icing his jaw.

“Imagine if someone was stepping out of the van der Winkle gates after they graduated and they dropped, like, their diploma. And they’re freaking out! They’re going nuts. They have to get it. But then they have to pass through the gate again because the diploma rolled on the other side.

“Couldn’t they just ask someone inside to get it for them?” Serena asks.

“Hypothetically, that person graduated friendless, unliked and alone.”

“Oh wow, what a bloody cheerful scenario! Props to you, ems, top marks,” Jian Ying says with topnotch sarcasm, raising a glass mockingly. He’s in no mood tonight, either, Serena notices.

“Are you that scared of the curse?” Jill asks.

“Luck is a crock piece of nonsense, sweetheart,” Jian Ying says. “We make our own destinies.”

\--

“Dan? Blair? I need your help.”

\--

“I already broke up with Georgina, because of what you told me about her scheming to pit everyone against Blair.”

“Get back together with her. I need her alone and vulnerable.”

“S! I’m impressed.”

Serena beams at her through the webcam. “I learned from the best, didn’t I?”

\--

All it takes is a few dates to lure Georgina back to ‘his place’, Blair making a few calls of her own, Serena cashing in some favors and a trip back to New York City.

Game on, G.

\--

Blair sets a tail on Georgina. It’s almost hilarious, how quickly they catch her in the act; her stalking Serena and the gang. The pictures Georgina takes end up on Gossip Girl the next day.

They take pictures of that.  Proof that she’s Gossip Girl.

\--

When it’s time for the final showdown, Serena’s hiding in the wings listening to the last vestiges of Blair’s vengeance.

“-ruin you. Because you, little miss Gossip Girl? Have made a lot of enemies. Including me. So step down, G. I’m asking you nicely.”

Her heart an outpouring of light – and not just the purifying kind but the kind that sears your retinas permanently purple, the dangerous kind, the kind that gives you skin cancer. Like she might explode at any moment, turn supernovae.

Blair is poison but Serena? Serena is a golden _blade_ , and maybe the Upper East Side has deemed her irrelevant but she knows how to survive. She is a trainwreck; she is a catastrophic scandal waiting to happen and god if she hasn’t heard it all before. Van der Woodsens are built to last. Their foundation’s solid diamond.

She emerges, looking Georgina straight in the eye.

“It’s okay, B. Let me finish this,” she says, ironclad.

“S-”

“No more games, no more manipulations, no more lying. We both started this. And now I’m going to end it.”

The ultimatum’s still too Upper East Side dramatic for her, but old habits die hard.

Luckily she’s about to go for the kill.

\--

Blair steps aside. Serena marches up to Georgina. Georgie, who used to be her best friend. This girl, she used to love and drink and dance with. She doesn’t feel anything but a cold rage. The same girl who held a murder over her head.

“Georgie, I will bury you if you touch any of them ever again. And this time? I’m not afraid to tell the truth,” Serena says, fury encapsulated in every shivering nerve.

“Aw, sweetheart, is that how you want to play it?”

Her grin-oh it comes so easy the smiling, the laughing the serenity-spreads all over her face. Serena’s expression is nothing short of beatific and Georgina’s smile falters.

She grips her designer high-end blouse in her fist and smiles. “Oh, Georgie. Oh, manipulative lonely Georgina Sparks. Does it scare you?”

“S-”

“Does it confuse you? Does it boggle you? You’ve always been the rich girl playing at life, and we were the same you and me, and it frightens the fuck out of you that the world isn’t your oyster anymore. That, god forbid, there’s a world outside of games and gold that you wouldn’t last a second in because for all your seduction and charm you wouldn’t know what to do with reality if it spit in your face. So _fuck_ your schemes, and get out of my life. I will make sure your face is plastered _everywhere_. I will take you down with _everything I've got._  Don't you understand, Georgie?"

"Understand  _what._ " Georgina bares her teeth. 

" _I am not afraid of you anymore._ ”

Serena shoves her away.

"I'll expose you. I'll dig into your past so deep, you'll be  _finished._ Everyone will know everything about you, Serena."

“I don't care. Go ahead."

Georgina's mouth gapes. Serena can see her visibly calculating, trying to figure a way out of this.

“Do you...I...how about a deal, I keep being Gossip Girl, and I don't write about you-"

“Do you want to know what the difference between us is?”

“What.”

“I never had to break people to feel anything.”

“I loved you,” Georgina says, calmly. “I loved you, and this is how you repay me.”

“You loved me? Oh, Georgie-you didn’t even know me when you knew me,” Serena replies. “You’re a toxic person and the sad thing is I don’t think you know how to be anything else.”

“ _Fuck you_ ,” Georgina snarls, and Serena doesn’t rear back, only laughs and grips Georgina's chin with a grip so tight that her eyes flicker with fear for a moment.

“You write about me or anyone I love again and I will make sure prison looks like paradise,” she grins. “Now, sweetheart. Get the fuck out of my town.”

\--

Dan exits the bathroom. Georgina exits the loft, stage right. Serena almost yells scene!

All of this seems too familiar.

“Wow, that was…I didn’t know you could be…” He shakes his head. “I don’t get you.”

“That’s just it. Nobody, here, ever wanted to get me. Even Blair doesn’t get me and I know she doesn’t want to. We belong to each other. That doesn’t mean we’ll always understand each other.”

“Serena-”

“If you got me, we wouldn’t be in this position. Just-I look at everyone and sometimes I think it’s your sister who comes closest.”

Serena and Dan look at each other. All history and sad eyes and they’re tied together at the waist by everything. Old love. Siblings. Friends.

“You were the girl of my dreams, you know,” he says.

She takes his hand and grips it firmly. “And you were the boy I wished I’d met first,” she says, bittersweet. “But it’s time to wake up.”

\--

_8\. The Girl With Strength, who can outrun everyone and who is stronger than her boyfriend. “See the thing about boys,” says my daddy, “Is that you have to let them win.” I sat at home and read stories about Artemis and wanted to become the huntress, too. I wanted to howl at the moon, I wanted to slay the beasts that bested me, I wanted to rule my kingdom with bloody fists. But girls are never athletes, never supposed to be “built,” regardless of the fact civilizations were constructed on our spines and we made homes in war by the steel of our ribs. Never be strong. We are supposed to wilt._

\--

Picture this; five people breaking into a house. Felicia combing through Georgina’s closet and drawers for clues. Jian Ying keeping a lookout at the door. Jeremy’d picked the locks. Jill at her desktop, flushing her hard drive.

Maria looks over her shoulder while she’s going through Georgina’s mail.

“Wow, you hippie,” she says, impressed. “How did you guess her password? Are you-are you a hacktivist?”

“Shut up,” Jill says, with a crooked smile. “Okay, sort of. My brother taught me how to hack before I even knew what organic food was.”

In a handful of minutes it’s finished. Her computer wiped entirely clean.

As a last touch, Jill bugs her laptop.

\--

Watching Georgina scream and panic over her lost information is so satisfying, Blair asks for a copy.

“Your friends are impressive,” she says reluctantly. “S, what I said before you went to Brown was petty. I’m sorry.”

Serena smiles. “I think NYU’s changed you too, B.”

“Never.”

“I mean that in a good way.”

“I may deign to show charity to the masses once in a while,” Blair says with a sniff, and they break out in laughter.

She introduces Dan and Blair to all of them after that night. Jian Ying teases Dan mercilessly. Jill’s talking to Blair about her latest cleanse, Maria and Felicia jump in to defend poor Dan, who’s laughing at himself as always.

Jeremy offers to cook them all dinner.

“Wow, this is pretty good,” Blair says, as they dig in. Serena hides a smile behind their napkin. “You should be majoring in Culinary Arts."

Dan says, “That, from Blair, is a compliment. The girl likes gourmet pizzas…”

She watches Dan and Blair exchange fond, exasperated looks and suppresses her shock.

Looks like they all really did change.

\--

When it’s time to say their goodbyes, Serena hugs Blair extra tight.

“Thanks for behaving tonight, B,” she murmurs.

“It’s no problem. They seem decent,” Blair replies.

“What happened to my old best friend, full of quick judgments about the less fortunate?” Serena says, smiling as they pull away.

“You have New Blair. She’s less of a snob, but no less tasteful,” Blair replies. “You really do seem good, S. I’m proud of you.”

She hugs Dan, tells him, “Take care of each other,” with a meaningful look. “I’ll see you soon.”

She has to let go.

\--

She’s so used to having friends out of habit that the gang constantly surprises her. She’s used to Blair’s neuroses, Chuck’s sleaziness, Nate’s stoner demeanor. The last new people she let in her life permanently were Dan, Jenny and Vanessa. 

She watches Maria (a huge comic fan) hunch over her Wonder Woman issue. She looks like an apostrophe on the New York subway. When she asks what she’s reading, she replies, “Sh. Shhhhhh. She’s making a knife out of steel, and the molting process is intense,” and Serena raises an eyebrow. When Maria gets like this, she reminds her of that one character in that comedy Jeremy likes so much-Abir? Abe? Abed. Eric and Jonathan argue with her about superhero continuity. They get along like a house on fire.

She watches the segregated parts of her life-new and old-blend together.

Jian Ying teaches Blair so much more about makeup-“drag requires you to have mastered the art”-with Dorota looking on, enraptured.

Jill and Jeremy drag along Dan and Nate to their Sunday Farmer’s Market trips.

“She adores her organic,” Jeremy says, fondly, looking at Jill examine a fresh Granny’s apple. Nate nearly slips on a fish, and Dan’s laughing so hard he forgets to take a picture. Jill enthusiastically points out ingredients for Jeremy and Dan to buy. Nate’s just along for the ride, charming vendors with his smile as Jill barters with them.

“You’re saving my wallet, pretty boy,” Serena hears Jill say to Nate. She tries not to snort.

Felicia even gets along with Jenny. Felicia’s got a vested interest in fashion as well. Jenny eats it up, chatting about hemlines and different materials and the best brands to buy from. Blair invites her to a Waldorf Designs show. 

The Upper East Side biases are still there, but the walls are tumbling down.

She’s never been more happy to be proved wrong.

But, like everything else, the break after midterms proves short. It’s finals time, and everyone slips away into their own bubbles, ready to set nose to grindstone.

\--

“Wake up, Serena.”

She wakes up the way every tired finals student wakes up; with the textbook nigh-imprinted on her cheek, her hair a mess and her mouth making an unholy noise at being awakened and tasting, oddly, of beer and coffee.

The library is dark, and that’s wrong, isn’t it? Wasn’t it sunset when she got here? It was a dust gold pouring from the windows when she was reading about economics…

Jian Ying’s nudging her awake.

“Oh man,” she groans. “I can’t wait for this to be over.”

“One last hurdle, blondie. Just until the week is over.”

“I’m losing track of what day it is. Is it Thursday?”

“Oh my god, Serena. It’s Tuesday.”

“Ughhhhhhhhhh.”

\--

On the night of her last final, she’s exhausted. Studying for hours and hours on end took something out of her. She just wants to crash now that it’s all over.

Her phone vibrates.

For a second she tenses, thinks Georgina’s back- 

“2 A.M. at the dorm fountain. BYOB. Dress code: pajamas.

Serena launches herself out of her bed like a hurricane. Her comforter is thrown unceremoniously upon the floor. She nearly slips on her own clothes as she grabs a jacket, puts on some shoes and scrambles out. She gets weird stares at the store but runs into a Malay pajama-clad boy rubbing sleep out of his eyes and buying beer. He’s got black hair sticking up everywhere like he stuck a finger in the electrical socket.

He lights up into a grin, and raises his hand for a high five she immediately returns.

“Did you get the same text?”

“Yeah. What d’you think it’s about?”

“No idea. My brother’s alumni, just says that we’ll see.” He finger quotes the last two words. His pajamas have penguins on them. “Should be fairly awesome.”

She pays for her champagne behind him and they look at the junction to see a couple other laughing pajama-people running off school-bound.

“My name’s Nizzar, by the way,” he says.

“Serena,” she replies.

“Nice to party with you,” he exhales as they both notice the green man pop up and they run off, in chase of their comrades.

“Likewise!” She yells back. Breathless and restless and adrenaline-fueled they run through the streets in the middle of the night and she’s laughing so hard, this is _hers,_ this moment of exhilaration. All of it hers-theirs, here; now.

They follow the light that seems to be emanating from the dorms. There’s a fountain in the middle of the clearing that the dorms surround, and someone standing on it with a lamp in his hand.

“FRESHMEN! BROWN STUDENTS OF ALL AGES, MY GLORIOUS CHILDREN!” He booms. She looks up to see it’s a stocky man with a grey beard. Who…looks like the _Deputy Dean of the College?_

“To whom hath survived your first finals here at this institution!”

The air is electric. She lets out an amazed, “Oh my god”. Standing there, everyone else in sleepwear, she feels the tide of something great wash over her.

She belongs.

As he continues his speech she grabs Nizzar’s hand and weaves through the crowd, looking for her friends. She finally finds them near the front, as he finishes with a grand declaration:

“-I therefore assert your inalienable right to party!”

Jian Ying, Felicia, Jeremy, Jill, Maria. Every one of them beautiful in the dim lights of the lanterns scattered across the grassy clearing.

She grins at them all. Her hair’s sleep-mussed, she doesn’t even have her eyeshadow on and she’s pretty sure they all look like drunk idiots. She doesn’t care.

“This is Nizzar,” she tells them, and they welcome him into the circle without question.

He’s astonished to be included; that much she can tell, and he looks over at her as they all begin to dance to _Titanium_ and sing the chorus at the top of their lungs, everyone grinning so wide it should hurt.

“This is insane! Who are you?” he yells over the music, a shocked smile gracing his face.

The secret every young person knows; this won’t last forever. So they’ll go down in flames, glitz, glamor, gritty adrenaline.

She’s a beauty queen, she’s a girl out of dreams; grown up and living her life to the fullest and damn anyone who thinks they know her. She’s so much more than her smile, her ability to make fast friends, her spontaneity and delight. Her coquettish laugh. She’s sad. She’s lonely. She’s beautiful. She’s addicted to the spotlight. She’s a sucker for love. She’s selfish. She might be all those things.

But right now?

“I’m _Serena van der Woodsen_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Canon divergence;  
> -Dan and Blair become friends a season earlier  
> -Jenny is never exiled from New York  
> -Chuck and Blair never got back together  
> -Georgina has always been the original Gossip Girl  
> title from:
> 
> "10. THE GIRL I AM: FIRECRACKER AND DON’T YOU FUCKING FORGET IT I’LL RIP YOU TO SHREDS AND I WON’T FUCKING REGRET IT I’M NOT YOUR PRETTY GIRL I’M NOT YOUR ANYTHING I’M PERFECT, MOTHERFUCKER, AND I’M NOT GOING TO GIVE UP WHAT I’M DOING. I DON’T WANT TO BE “LADYLIKE” THAT LITERALLY MEANS NOTHING I’M NOT GOING TO STOP STANDING UP AND DEMANDING WHAT’S COMING TO ME. I’M GONNA BE SOMEBODY. I’M GONNA MAKE THEM REMEMBER ME. I REFUSE TO BE OVERSHADOWED IN HISTORY. I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU WERE TRYING TO CREATE BUT YOU MADE ME A DRAGON YOU PUT ME IN THE FIRE AND WHEN I STOPPED BURNING I LEARNED HOW TO GLOW DON’T THINK YOU CAN STOP ME YOU CAN’T TAME A TORNADO."  
> -inkskinned (tumblr user)


End file.
